


The scales are betraying me, The mirror is a lie

by xxxbuffyxxx



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Eating Disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:07:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxbuffyxxx/pseuds/xxxbuffyxxx
Summary: He didn't want people to pay attention to him, but he wanted to be better. Atsumu always had the spotlight, he was always the centre of attention, and Osamu was fine with that, really, he just didn't want to be… left behind. (forgotten)Title based on the song ‘Empty’ by Boyinaband and Jaiden
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu
Comments: 10
Kudos: 117





	1. Alone

It took Atsumu a few weeks to realise something was wrong. 

Osamu was honestly surprised he didn't see it before. He wasn't very good at pretending, his excuses to get away during lunch and snack breaks were weak at best. Kita knew, and he wasn't hiding that fact. He watched Osamu every time he left during a break and, though he was usually able to persuade him that he was fine. There was nothing wrong. ( _ why did they care now? _ )

Of course he was eating. 

Because why wouldn't he be? He wasn't insecure about his body, his looks, he didn't think he was fat. In fact, he was starting to get concerned with how thin he was getting himself. No, he wasn’t insecure about his image. 

He just wanted… ( _ attention _ )

No, attention wasn't the word. He didn't want people to pay attention to him, but he wanted to be better. Atsumu always had the spotlight, he was always the centre of attention, and Osamu was fine with that, really, he just didn't want to be… left behind. ( _ forgotten _ ) 

Osamu had the thought a few months before a big match against Karasuno. He didn't want all of the attention on him, that would be overbearing, and he would hate it from start to finish, but maybe… maybe he wanted a change to happen. Because ‘Tsumu was leaving him behind. 

( _ everyone was leaving him behind _ )

So he made the decision. Cut back from a few meals, drink a bit more water, start counting, because if he was being left behind, no control over his team’s success and being doomed to ‘try his best’ behind them, then at least he could control what he was eating. He could control what he ate. 

So firstly he checked what his normal intake was, which was roughly 2150 calories a day after a week of writing it down. 

He was 135 pounds. 

Then he cut out unnecessary snacks, such as deserts and soda. Some people asked why ( _ not ‘Tsumu, why not his brother? _ ), but he just told them he was working out more. People stopped asking. 

After a week of that he had lost 8 pounds and his calorie intake had gone down by about 150 calories, and damn, how many snacks were he having a day?

Then he stopped really eating breakfast, because instead he went and did a bit of extra practice in the mornings. He didn't really mean to stop eating breakfast, but really, what was it but what was his but an extra plus? 

Besides, he still had lunch and dinner. ( _ bite your tongue _ )

At one point during that week, his mum asked him why he was going out so early as she got back from her night shift. 

“Oh, we have a pretty important game coming up, and I really want to ace it!” he had said with as much enthusiasm as he could. (Which really wasn't much. He was tired a lot now.)

After a week of this he found out that his daily calorie intake was about 1200, which he saw as a plus. He was getting better, he was doing well!

Atsumu could have the attention, and Osamu could have this. He didn't want everyone crowding him and saying he was great, but this was validation. Seeing the numbers decrease before his very eyes? And so fast as well!

He was already down to 129 pounds in only 2 weeks!

Osamu wasn't sure what his goal was. He didn't really think about the fact that there would have to be a time where he would have to stop. He couldn't go into negative numbers, but the fact that the numbers were going down, and it was him who was doing that! It wasn't other people deciding it for him, it was him!

That was when things started going wrong. 

First Kita started becoming suspicious, so he had to stay for lunch, which he was thinking about skipping a few days a week, but that was fine. He could deal. 

Then his mum started asking why he was so thin. 

“Mum, it’s ok, i’m just working out more. I’m just more muscular now, calm down.” he had said. 

“I’m ok.”

It was that week that he started noticing how tired he was. Osamu was finding that he needed more breaks during practice ( _ it's just the extra practice, i’ll sleep in on Saturday _ ), he got dizzy during practice and walking home ( _ i just need to drink more water _ )...

The numbers stopped decreasing, down down down  _ down down down… _

The numbers stopped decreasing, and Osamu didn't know what to do. This was his control, this was his power, he had power over this and now he didn't know what to do…

( _ he didn't know why he clicked on it, he knew it was bad, his senpai from middle school had told him not to, why did he click? _ )

**Pro Ana** . 

Why he clicked on it, he had no idea, but he did. And he saw  **skinny, skinny** limbs. Arms and legs which should have scared him, which he could almost see the bones through, they were  **skeletal** . 

Then he scrolled past the pictures and saw  **numbers. Low numbers.**

And  **recipes** . Teriyaki which was only 175 calories, spaghetti which was only 100 calories,  **pancakes which were only 34 calories** . 

Why had he stayed away from this? He could lower his calorie intake just from changing his lunch, Osamu was thrilled. 

“Mum, it’s just a better diet, i'm eating healthy,  _ I’m ok _ .”

After a week and a half of doing that, the numbers slowed down again. 

109 pounds. 

He would stop at 100. He would. He was starting to look a bit like the pictures now, volleyball was starting to be too hard and  _ no _ because he wanted to  _ be better _ and all he was doing was  _ getting worse _ . 

Just. Until. 100. 

He decided this staring into the mirror in his bathroom, his towel on the floor around his feet, the door locked. 

Just until 100. 

He counted his ribs. 

Just until 100. 

He pinched his arms, thighs, back. 

Just… 

( **_eat_ ** )

Osamu was hungry. He hadn't eaten more than 1000 calories in the past 36 hours and he was hungry. 

Maybe one meal. 

Just one. 

( _ fat _ )

It would make Mum feel better. 

( **_EAT_ ** )

It would make HIM feel better. 

Eat. 

He would eat dinner with his family. 

Half an hour later he was staring into his half eaten dinner. 

Well, he had eaten dinner. He had eaten most of a roast dinner. It had to be rich in calories. In the calories he was trying to avoid. The calories he could control. ( _ no control _ )

“I’m full, thank you for dinner. Have a good night at work.”

After he got rid of the other half of his dinner, he went back to the mirror. 

He grabbed his phone. 

**How to make yourself vomit** . 

Osamu knew people did it. He knew it was bad,  **bulimia** was bad, but it was just this once. 

He wouldn't mess up again. 

He had to scroll past the healthcare websites containing the biological damage he was causing, past the eating disorder hotline because he didn't have an eating disorder, he didn't think he was  _ fat _ . 

**‘How to induce vomiting: safety and risks’**

He scrolled past this. He caught a glimpse of ‘dehydration’ but ignored it. He had water in his room. 

**‘Push finger down throat to the back of your tongue. If you don't want to use your finger, use a toothbrush.’**

Yeah, there was no way he was putting his finger down his throat. 

Five minutes later Atsumu walked into the bathroom to see his brother with his head over the toilet and a toothbrush down his throat. 


	2. Twins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why can't you understand? How would you feel if I were the one doing this to myself? You love food, you love it so much, you ate all the time, and then we both work it off during volleyball and we race each other home and you always win because i get distracted by something like ice cream or a cat and then i have to get us more snacks and we do homework together and none of that is happening! Because you’re sick and you don't even know it!”

“What the fuck was that?” Atsumu asked. 

The twins were sitting in Atsumu’s bedroom, both on his bed. Osamu had his arms wrapped around himself lightly ( _ which was stupid. He was fine _ ) and was looking at the patterned cloth underneath him.

“None of your business,” he replied. Was it mature? No. Did it show just how little Osamu wanted to be talking about this? Yes. And that was all he cared about. “Sorry I worried you, but as you can see, I’m fine n…”

“No.”

Osamu looked up in surprise. Atsumu was glaring at Osamu, and it was honestly scaring him. Had he made his brother angry? Why? He had done nothing wrong. 

“No?” he asked, because he didn't understand  _ he had done nothing wrong _ .

“No. You're not fine. You're sick.”

The younger twin looked at Atsumu with confusion in his eyes. He made to put his hand to his forehead, expecting it to be hot and sweaty, but it was caught halfway. 

Atsumu made a pained noise as he felt his brother’s wrist, almost able to fit his hand all the way around. Osamu had been the same weight as him mere weeks ago, what had happened?

“‘Samu, can't you see?” he asked, shifting himself so he was closer to his younger brother. “‘Samu, you’re tiny! Have you been doing this to yourself for weeks? Is this why you don’t eat lunch with us anymore? Because you’re making yourself sick?”

“No, no, ‘Tsumu this was the first time, i wasn't planning on doing it again…”

“Then why are you so small?” Atsumu asked, tears in his eyes. Sure, they joked and played about ‘hating each other’, but it was just sibling rivalry, and he hadn't noticed! “You don't just get this small from some extra exercise. Have you even eaten? You're tiny!”

Osamu looked down. It wasn't as bad as Atsumu was saying, he wasn’t sick. 

He could choose to eat and not to eat. 

It was a choice. 

( _ was it? _ )

“Have you? HAVE YOU?” Atsumu asked, obviously worked up. 

“I can if I want, I've just been cutting down on some stuff…”

“Why? We have the same genetics ‘Samu, do I need to diet?”

“No, but this isn't dieting exactly…”

“It’s starving yourself ‘Samu!”

“No, I can stop…”

“Then stop!” Atsumu screamed, making both of them jump. 

Then he burst into tears. 

Osamu gasped in shock. He immediately pulled his twin into his arms and stroked his back soothingly, just like Atsumu did to him when he was stung by a wasp when they were 9, and he had done the next year when Atsumu was stung by a jellyfish. 

Atsumu mumbled something into his neck which he couldn't quite hear, so he said, “‘Tsumu, what was that?” quietly. 

“I don't want to lose the person I love the most.”

Osamu’s breath caught in his throat. “What about mum and dad? What about Kita? What about…”

“I love you ‘Samu! And i could lose you to this… this thing and you don't even know!”

“I’m fine…”

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” Atsumu yelled, squeezing his brother tighter and sobbing more and more. “Why can't you understand? How would you feel if I were the one doing this to myself? You love food, you love it so much, you ate all the time, and then we both work it off during volleyball and we race each other home and you always win because i get distracted by something like ice cream or a cat and then i have to get us more snacks and we do homework together and none of that is happening! Because you’re sick and you don't even know it!”

Osamu could barely breathe now. He hadn't noticed how much he had separated from his brother, how much they had grown apart in these past few weeks. He opened his mouth to speak before Atsumu started again. 

“And I know that if I were the one puling away you would ask me what's wrong and you wouldn't leave until I told you! You wouldn't let me leave until i told you, if you didn't already know from all of the super obvious signs which i saw but thought nothing of. But you would come to me and make me eat and eat healthy and you would make me better, because you’re the best brother ever, and all i'm doing is yell at you! I love you ‘Samu, i love you so much and i know that you love me too because we’re brothers and  _ you can't leave me alone! _ ”

Neither of them spoke for a moment, before Atsumu whispered, “ _ I don't want you to leave me to be an only child. I’ll die if i lose you! _ ”

Osamu was crying now too. Tears silently running down his face while Atsumu sobbed into his neck. They sat there, crying, for what felt like hours. Hours and days and months of crying and regret, from both twins. 

“I just wanted control.”

Atsumu looked at him with confusion in his eyes. 

“You’re becoming so popular. You’re good with people and you’re the setter which means you’re getting more and more popular and more fans and i… I don't want to be left behind. I can't control what other people do, but i can control what i eat.”

Atsumu heaved out a breath. It was like he physically couldn't breathe, he was gasping in breaths and an endless stream of tears was coming out of his eyes. “What would you do if you were me?” 

Osamu’s eyes widened. What would he do? Right now, all he wanted was for his brother to leave him alone, to be back in that bathroom and remember to close the door, but what if it were Atsumu in that bathroom, abusing his throat because he ate?

What would he do if he found that?

“I’d tell mum.” he said finally. “I’d tell mum and call a friend, maybe even Coach, and I’d cry. A lot. Because it would look like you were starving yourself and after hearing… i’d think you were.”

He was starting to understand. 

‘I can control what i eat’. What was that? What did it mean? It didn't mean i can control what type of food enters my mouth, it meant i can control  _ if _ food entered my mouth. 

Sure, he wasn’t not eating, but he might as well have been. 

He was turning  **skeletal** . Like the girls in the photos with tiny stomachs and tiny arms and tiny legs. 

Could you survive like that?

He thought back to the mirror, how he looked pinching the non-existent fat on his body, and replaced his face with Atsumu’s. It wasn't hard. 

But… he couldn't do it. His cheekbones were too defined, his hair too thin, bags under his eyes which his brother didn't have. 

Had he changed so much?

“‘Tsumu…” he started, then he burst into tears himself. When was the last time he did?

He cried, then Atsumu cried, then he agreed to calling their mum together. He texted Kita to come over due to an emergency. 

A week later he was cheering his brother on from the bench, but smiling. Sure, he was behind right now, but he could catch up. Nothing was stopping him. 

As his brother smiled at him after their team scored yet another point, Osamu remembered something that his coach had said before the game. 

“Just because someone’s colourblind doesn't mean they can see the colours.”

“What does that mean, Coach?” he had asked, glaring at the protein bar he was given by the hospital **to regain his strength** . 

“It means that just because you know that you are sick, you will still feel this way for a very long time, just as I know i cannot distinguish the colours blue and green. However,  _ now you can take steps to heal _ .”

Osamu ran up to Atsumu when they won the game and practically jumped on top of him in celebration. His brother pulled him in close and after a moment they both felt the rest of their team pile on too. 

Osamu could heal. He could, but only because he had Atsumu. Only because if he didn't, he would have crossed that line and spiralled. Sure, food was hard, but he was  _ healing _ . 

The mirror lied that day. There was nothing to pinch, there was no fat, no extra numbers to lose. 

He had to start eating again. Because him and his brother barely looked similar. 

So he would eat. He would eat and eat and eat until they were identical again. 

He would not let Atsumu be an only child. 


End file.
